These Walls
by Prettycrazy
Summary: Many of us start our lifes the same place as we end it  churchs is a huge part of many of our lives. Try and see a churchcathedral from Clarisse's point of view. R&R please.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea that popped into my head

I hope you will enjoy this story, I actually should be working on another chapter of my other story, but this was just stuck in my head so, out it came!!!!

Voila…..Enjoy.

These Walls

Clarisse wasn't paying as much attention as she usually did during the service, but memory upon memory came to her thoughts. She tried shaking her head to sort of shake them all away. She couldn't just sit here and not be part of this; she had been here every time her schedule had allowed her to attend, during the past 42 years. She had spent happy and sad times here. Almost everything that had happened in her life so far could be connected to this cathedral. A small smile spread across her face as she thought about the fact that everyone in her family, well almost everyone, had started and ended their lives with a visit to these old, wise and non-judging walls.

The murals were still looking down at the Genovians from their places closer to the lord. The carved angels still smiling their knowing and loving smiles, they too had witnessed all she had experienced under the golden arches of this ancient building.

Her first meeting with this house, she could not remember since she had been only a baby, but the second time she had visited, she was eight years old, and had had to attend the funeral of her beloved great grandfather, Papi André, the prime minister of Genovia. She remembered the burning feeling of the tears running freely down her angelic face, and she remembered the feeling of wrongness she felt as she saw people offer their condolences to the King. She felt as if she was the only one who had lost a loved one, the thought of others losing as well had never come to her eight year old mind. She had understood later that an entire nation had lost a great guide in her beloved Papi André.

Oh her Papi André had been a great man. How she had loved the way he had read to her, how he, despite his age, had played with her; jumped ropes, hopscotch, pushed her on swings… everything that could bring joy to a little girl's world. She had loved him so.

The next time she could remember visiting God's house, she was fifteen and looking more ladylike than a fifteen year old should. She was accompanied by her grandparents, and was to attend Sunday lunch at the royal palace after the service. Her grandfather was a member of parliament and was a natural guest of the royal halls. Half way through the service her grandmother had leaned in and whispered while pointing toward the royal family "Do you see the Crown Prince sitting so tall and handsome over there! That is your future husband!" Clarisse's eyes had widened at that moment just starting at the twenty-one year old Prince. This couldn't be true, could it? Her parents would have told her this themselves if it was true. Wouldn't they? Or maybe that was the reason for this sudden invitation to both service and royal lunch. She had just kept on staring at the Prince, and at one point their eyes had locked, and by the look he had send her, she knew that HE knew that she was his future wife. And when he had ended the returned staring with a blinding smile, she had blushed and quickly averted her eyes.

Oh how girlish she had felt that day. She had, throughout the rest of the service, only lifted her eyes to look over at him, and she had blushed even harder when he was still looking at her, in a way not appropriate for this lovely cathedral. Another smile spread at that memory. Rupert had been handsome back then too. At twenty-one he could have had any woman he'd wanted. She remembered that she had been giggling and blushing all the way through lunch, whenever he was near, and having that being all the time, she never did anything besides giggle and blush. And that had been their first and only encounter up till then. They hadn't met again, not until three years later when their engagement had been made official, which led her mind to her next meeting with these holy walls.

She had just turned twenty, not more than a week past, and now she was getting married. Everything was beautiful. She was shaking all over. It wasn't so much the walk down the aisle that made her this way, or the looks from the many people attending her wedding, no it was the fact that she was indeed getting married. Clarisse and Rupert had been engaged for almost two years. They didn't really know anything besides the names of each other at their engagement, so over the past two years they had spend time getting to know each other, all the likes and all the dislikes. The numerous pictures in the newspapers, of them holding hands; exchanging small pecks; walking and talking; laughing and enjoying themselves and each other to the fullest, told their story for them so far. But now they were to be bound in holy matrimony, as husband and wife, and that was the reason for her nervousness. What would he expect from her? Would she be what he had wanted? Would she be a good wife to him? Would she be a good Queen to Genovia when that time came? And most important, would she be a good mother to their children?

All her thoughts for their future had made her look lost to Rupert, and she had felt him lace his fingers with hers. While the choir was singing another hymn, she had felt him squeeze her hand softly. She had looked up into his happy eyes. When she had peeked into the church before walking down the aisle, she had looked straight at Rupert who had been standing there looking up towards the ceiling as if to beg the angels painted there to have her not change her mind about this marriage. The minute she had started walking down the aisle, his expression had turned from teary eyed and unsure to teary eyed but with bright happy smile all over. They had kept looking into each other's eyes, having a wordless conversation that was interrupted by the bishop's wish for them to stand, the start of what had been begun twenty years ago, with Clarisse's birth. Everything had blended together for both of them as they had said their 'I dos', and shared their first kiss as husband and wife. They had walked proudly out of the church smiling and nodding to the guests they passed. The reception had flown by, they were sent off with style as befitted a bridal couple, and sooner than they had thought, they had started their wedding night and honeymoon.

Oh what a pleasant memory. She never thought she would be as nervous as she had been on her wedding night. Rupert had been more than gentle with her, taken everything at her pace, never forced her to do anything but guided her through it all. She remembered the trembling that had taken over her body when she slowly had emerged from the bathroom in only a white chiffon slip, and the look on Rupert's face, a look of pure desire and something she had told herself was love. She was happy for the fact that they had had time to get to know each other before the marriage; they had had the chance to be intimate, not as intimate as on their wedding night, but as intimate as a couple to be married should be. It had eased her. And that had made for a more than pleasant honeymoon. She smiled at the fact that their honeymoon had led them to their next visit to this peaceful place.

Ten months into their marriage Clarisse gave birth to a beautiful baby boy; Pierre, Prince of Genovia. And at three months old, he was baptized on a beautiful day, even if he had argued all day, crying and screaming his little head off. It still was a beautiful day. He was given a name fit for a king, a name that told people about his status. Clarisse had been trembling all day, she was the one to carry her son through his baptism, reveal his name and calm him down. Rupert had begged her to do the task, even though she had insisted on that he should be the one to do it. And he had been very convincing, and she was happy to do it, she just didn't want to say it out loud. Despite their son's disagreement to the festivities, it was all in all a beautiful day. The sun was high on the sky and everybody had smiles on their faces. Rupert was more than proud, and would show his son to anyone who would look, and everybody wanted to do so. Clarisse was just as proud, but didn't show it in quite as large scale as her husband.

Oh Pierre, her firstborn, how she missed him. He was always busy with his church, his community, charities and his new studies. When he was first born, she had done nothing but have her every waking moment with him. When he had first confessed in his passion for joining the church someday, she had encouraged him to follow his dream. Rupert had been reluctant at first to even let Pierre abdicate, but he knew after a chat with Clarisse that he neither could nor would force Pierre to take the throne, and how could he? His own brother had abdicated the throne of Genovia for a reason that was never brought up around the old king and queen. Rupert's brother had been told to abdicate, since he had fallen in love with another man and would never be accepted by the Genovians or able to give Genovia a new Renaldi heir, and the old King had been harsh in his commands. The old King, her beloved father in-law, brought up another memory of the amazingly decorated cathedral.

She was six months pregnant, and crying as if she had been whipped but it was together with her husband and the rest of the country that she shed tears, the King was dead. Old age had caught up with him and his time had come. But it was hard losing him; he had been looking forward to his second grandchild's arrival, and had wished for Rupert and Clarisse that they have a lot of time with their newest family member without also having the responsibility of a country, but it wouldn't be that way. The King had fallen ill suddenly and by the end of the third week, he was gone. They sat beside each other in the cathedral, tears running down their cheeks, the burning feeling she had had when she was younger was there again. Pierre, too, was saddened by the loss of his grand Papi, and even the unborn was affected by the loss, it seemed. Clarisse rested the hand with her handkerchief on the top of her dark clothed growing belly and felt the little one tapping against her hand as sobs wracked her body. Rupert had one arm around her protectively and when he had noticed her placing her hand on the top of the round bulge, he had placed his free hand on top of hers. She had looked up into his eyes through tears. And they had shared a wordless conversation as they had many times before. When the King's casket was being taken through town to let the people say their last goodbye to their King, Rupert, Clarisse and the Queen along with hundreds of other family members had walked behind it. Rupert had supported his pregnant wife and held her up while they followed the casket, her sobs along with the weight of the baby made her walk slowly and unsteadily. When a gun salute was heard, she had cried even harder and practically doubled over. But she had followed behind the casket all the way to its destination with the support of her beloved husband.

Oh that was the most beautiful funeral, it was fitting for a King, and all the people of Genovia had mourned with the royal family. One week had passed from the funeral until Rupert and Clarisse were crowned King and Queen. The entire coronation was planned the way the old King had wanted it, from the words that were said to the flowers that had decorated the palace. Everything that day as well was perfect, just as it should be. The only thing that wasn't as the old King had written was that Clarisse had been pregnant. Pregnant yes, that she had been and that pregnancy gave them another beautiful reason to visit the cathedral's watchful eye.

The four month old newest addition to the royal family took his baptism more quietly than his brother, who was now three, had done. He slept through most of the ceremony. He had slightly opened his eyes at his mother's soft voice, telling Genovia his name, a name that just like his brother's was fit for a king, Phillip. Not even when he was passed onto his father did he grant them a sound. The gathering, after the ceremony, didn't even wake him up. Not until Clarisse was ready to eat did he open his eyes and make sure everybody knew that he was hungry. She had fed him, and he had fallen right back to sleep. He was handed over to the nanny at first but Rupert insisted on having both their sons present at this special day and only handed Phillip over when someone wanted to hold him or when Phillip fussed too much so that Clarisse had to calm him down. Rupert was as proud this time as he had been with Pierre, and wanted to show off his boys.

Oh her darling Phillip, so much like his father. And being so much like his father had made the two of them very close. Everywhere his father went, Phillip went, everywhere the King went, Phillip didn't, but at soon as the King returned and put on his parental hat, Phillip would run out of Clarisse's arms and into Rupert's. And when Pierre had abdicated the throne at age eighteen, Phillip had made his father proud when he had stepped forward with his head held high and said out loud 'As the only remaining heir to the Genovian throne, I will be king, you can be sure of that, Father!' The only remaining heir brought on a memory that she would rather have been without.

When Phillip had turned two, Clarisse and Rupert had decided to have one more child, and had succeeded in the conception of such. They had wished for a girl, and were given that. But the small girl was born two months too early and didn't survive. And Genovia's King and Queen had been heartbroken. And a small and private ceremony was held under the angels' sad eyes. That had been the hardest thing both Clarisse and Rupert had ever done. This was not how life was supposed to go. They were supposed to bring children into the world but not see them leave it again.

Oh, that had been one of her hardest visits to the cathedral. It had been hard losing her little girl, but it was harder to have to tell her people that Genovia would have two heirs and no more. Rupert had asked Clarisse if they please could name their little girl Precious, and she had thought it perfect. But the loss of their daughter had made Clarisse detest going to the cathedral, and she was unsure of the fairness in God. And she had done everything in her power to get out of going to services. So she only attended weddings, funerals and christenings for a long time. But she thought that she had cried her eyes dry at the loss of Precious. She would never be able to cry again. Her mother had told her that would change, and she just had to remember her little girl in her heart and never let her head think about what could have been. Her mother, her parents, brought her yet another unpleasant memory.

Her father had been the prime minister for Genovia for a long time after succeeding the successor of his own father. But that didn't give him immunity to accidents, and her parents had been killed in an airplane crash along with seventy-nine other people. And Rupert had decided to hold a ceremonial funeral to honour the now deceased Prime minister and his wife and to grief over the loss of his in-laws, his wife's parents. Clarisse had at first said no to Rupert, when he had begged her to attend. But he just had to mention their little girl once and tell her that she would regret it the rest of her life if she didn't come with him and she was practically out the door before him. It was a beautiful ceremony and she was glad that Rupert had pressured her to come. And it had helped her in more ways that she had thought possible.

Oh Rupert had always been her rock, always. Every time something worked against her, even if it was herself, he was there to take care of and help her out of the tangled web into which she had spun herself. He was also the one who could make her take a breath when she got too excited, as that day they had returned from Portugal.

They had been in Portugal for almost six weeks; part work and part vacation, just the two of them on the vacation part, and joined by a large number of people for the work part. And they had been looking forward to returning home. As soon as they had stepped out of the car, they had been met by aides and secretaries and security and so many other people who had started throwing information and questions at them, until Rupert had asked for space for them to enter without all that around them. Everyone had bowed out and disappeared, Rupert had put an arm around Clarisse, one hand resting on the top of her hip and they had made their way to their office, only meet by 'welcome homes' from guards and maids. Once safely in their office, they had taken a breath and shared a soft kiss and turned to their desks. On Clarisse's desk was a message from Phillip to call as soon as possible and, as any mother would, she had dialled right away with Rupert standing near. And they were informed that they now were grandparents to a beautiful baby girl, Amelia. Clarisse had been over the hill about the news and Rupert had asked her to please take a breath. She had done so, by turning to God, and his house. She had thanked the angels in the cathedral for the birth of her granddaughter. And she had even asked Rupert if they should have the little girl christened in that cathedral but to that Rupert had said no, since Phillip and Helen had decided to keep this a secret to the country so far. It would bring too much shock to their people. And besides Phillip had already made his choice: duty to Genovia over love for Helen. However, Amelia would always be part of their lives, no matter what.

Oh he was right again, Rupert. It wouldn't have gone over well with the Genovians; maybe it would have gone so badly that there would not be a Renaldi on the throne still. She remembered the one time they had seen the little girl. She was so beautiful, and it had brought tears to both Clarisse and Rupert's eyes, and tears weren't often seen on Rupert. Only two times had he done it in front of other people than Clarisse. Another sad memory washed over her thoughts.

He knew he hadn't long to live. Soon 'dead' would be connected to his name and title. He had cried over the parting, maids and security had been called to their monarch's chamber to give their last respects to their king. But it was the parting from his wife that had him crying. She had been with him through everything. She had given him and Genovia three beautiful children and they had raised a wonderful new king. He only wished for Clarisse to be happy. She had always seemed happy with their lives and when he had asked her to leave their room she had refused and told him that she wanted to be with him to his last breath, that she wanted to have him hold her.

Only hours after his last commands to his staff, only minutes after their last shared kiss had he closed his eyes for good. She had cried openly at his funeral, from the first minute of the day, to her final kiss to his casket, she had cried. And the burning feeling from all the tears had made its appearance again. And she had wished that Rupert's strong arms had been the ones holding her upright, but this time that task had belonged to her, to their sons. And she looked once again to the painted angels as if to say, he told me to tell you goodbye as well.

Oh their sons, the best things they had ever had. They were their pride and joy. And they had helped Clarisse as family should help each other, through tough times. Clarisse had just gotten back to her normal self, as much as a widow could, before she was slammed back to the ground and it was a hit that had sent her right back into God's house.

She had been in her office when Charlotte had come running to her, teary eyed and somewhat supported by Joseph. They had brought her the news of the loss of her youngest, her Phillip. He had always been fond of cars and the speed one such could go, and this time it was beyond his control and he lost his life along with it. She hadn't said a word, just had gotten up from her seat and walked out the door, quietly telling Joseph to get the car for her. She had sought refuge under the golden arches, sought comfort from the angels and she had cried her eyes dry once more. Her family was gone, almost. She had, as with her little girl, had a small and very private ceremony. He might have had the title of heir to the throne, but he had been her baby boy who was now gone, and she was still Queen, so what she said was done. She had told Helen that she would love to have her and Amelia by her side at this difficult task, but that because they had to ensure nothing ever happened to Amelia, she could not have them at Phillip's funeral. It would be difficult to hide from the press and a lot of unnecessary questions would be asked.

Oh Amelia, her granddaughter. When she was born, it had brought Clarisse more happiness than she had thought possible, when Amelia had accepted the title as Princess it had brought Clarisse more happiness than she thought possible and when Amelia had declined the wedding that was being forced upon her, it had brought Clarisse so much more happiness than she could even describe. Amelia's arranged marriage, which brought her another happy memory of her beautiful cathedral.

If it hadn't been for Amelia, Clarisse might never have had the courage to ask for Joseph's hand in marriage. They had played this cat and mouse game for so long that she could hardly remember when it had begun. She was in love with Joseph, but had been scared to admit it to herself, let alone the public. But when she had admitted to Amelia that she'd lost the only man she ever really loved, one of the two missing pieces of her puzzle fell into place and her marriage to Joseph was the other and Amelia had completed the puzzle for Clarisse by pushing her over the edge, the edge of duty. The wedding wasn't what it probably should have been, but it was beautiful, and when Joseph and Clarisse had shared their first kiss as husband and wife, she could feel her puzzle getting laminated, making it unbreakable.

Oh thanks to her darling granddaughter, Clarisse was happier than ever before. And now she was watching her fully grown granddaughter, married and about to let the Genovians in on what the name of the next Renaldi heir would be. Clarisse looked at the angels again and around at the holy walls, and smiled a 'you already know the name, don't you' smile. She took hold of Joseph's hand and laced their fingers, he looked her in the eyes and they shared their love openly, inside this beautiful cathedral.

Please Read&Review thank you!!!!


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